


Citrus reticulata

by Toast_Senpai



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 15:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8539072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toast_Senpai/pseuds/Toast_Senpai
Summary: How Ross loves nothing more than a sweet taste on his tongue and the fragrant scent between them.





	

Ross presses the mandarin onto the table and rolls it across the hard plastic. Someone once had told him that it helps loosen the peel from the flesh, but he doesn’t know how true that is. Mandarins already have a thin peel that comes off easily, so perhaps he’s remembering wrong and instead it’s supposed to work on oranges. Either way, he keeps rolling it, from the tip of his middle finger, back to his wrist, then horizontal across his palm, and it makes a cross before he swirls it around as if it’s cookie dough.

He picks it up, runs his thumb over the smooth, pebbly skin, tracing around until it is at the top where the stem used to be connected. Next to the raised, puckered top he lets his thumbnail pierce the peel. Juice wells beneath his nail and he pulls down. The peel comes away effortlessly, and he gets enough of it hold onto. Carefully, meticulously, he works the peel from the fruit, trying to strip it off in large pieces. There is a certain satisfaction in the feel of it ripping, the light sound of it, and the aromatic smell that coats the pad of his thumb, making it sticky.

Once the peel is completely removed, Ross stares at the naked ball. He holds it with both hands, letting his thumbs rest at the top where there is a hole. He gently separates the segments into two almost equal halves, then picks out some of the white, spongy pith. Again, he disconnects the segments until he has one half of them all apart. Six light orange half-moons sit innocently on the table.

It’s then that he notices Chris watching him. His friend is leaning against the fridge to the right holding a mug up to his mouth, looking over it at Ross.

At first, Ross thinks nothing of it. He refocuses back on the fruit and picks up one of the small segments. He parts his lips and slips it inside. Biting into it forces a sweet tartness out in a mini-flood onto his tongue. He swallows it, then chews the fleshy mesocarp, teeth making quick work of it. Automatically he picks up another piece and does the same.

Ross glances over at Chris. Still, Chris is watching him, hasn’t moved at all. Ross raises an eyebrow, knows that Chris will see it as a question. But Chris says nothing. As Ross eats more of the mandarin, he wonders if Chris is just tired. There are shadows under his eyes, but he knows they all have them –himself, Chris, Alex, numerous other people in the office who stare at computer screens all day. It’s a common thing, for all of them to look overworked and sleep-deprived.

Ross soon notices that Chris is looking at his hands. They had picked up the second half of the mandarin and started to pull it apart into its segments again. He shifts his eyes back to the pieces and raises one up towards his mouth, and that’s when he hears Chris set down his mug. It’s just a quiet sound, the tap of the ceramic touching the counter, that Ross almost ignores it. Except after it there are two more taps, this time of shoes on the floor, and Chris is standing at his shoulder just as Ross lets the soft, pastel flesh rest on his bottom lip.

Chris takes Ross by the wrist and lifts his hand, brings it to his own mouth instead. Ross waits for Chris to bite onto the piece before he lets it go. He watches it disappear, sees Chris’ jaw work before his throat bobs in a swallow. Ross licks his lips.

This time Chris picks up a segment and places it between his teeth, half still sticking out past his lips. He bends his head until it’s close to Ross’ own. Ross hesitates, but then tilts his head in. He lets their lips touch briefly as he bites into the mandarin, some of the juice splattering out, some running onto his chin as he pulls back with his part of it. He chews it, stares at Chris’ dark eyes while he does so. They are unblinking, the lids heavy, pupils wide, as though Ross is seducing him, but all he’s done is simply peel and eat a mandarin orange.

Once it’s gone, Chris picks up a piece and pops it into his mouth. Then he leans into Ross again, their shoulders touching this time, and Ross is kissed. The pleasant tang of juice spreads across his lips. Chris presses his tongue against Ross’ teeth, and he opens his mouth. It’s warm, and the same taste is there, only it’s slightly different because there’s also the fragrance of black tea underneath it, and the combination makes contentment swell in his chest. Ross breathes in deeply through his nose. Chris pulls back just enough to flick is tongue along Ross’ chin, cleaning away the residue of juice.

Chris smiles at him, something small and teasing before he stands fully. He looks at the table, spots the bowl filled with mandarins and picks one up.

“You know what would make these even better?” he asks.

Ross, lost in an enjoyable daze, can only hum in question.

“If we dipped them in chocolate,” Chris says.

Ross blinks, comes back to himself. He looks from the mandarin to Chris, then grins. “Check the cupboards, there are bound to be some bars in one.”

**Author's Note:**

> at this point i've just accepted that im obsessed with these guys + food.


End file.
